عند وصولي إلى تونس، اكتشفت أنني اقتلعت من المشرق ورميت نفسي في المغرب الذي لا أعرف عنه شيئًا. هنا اكتشفت مصطلح “مشرق” أساسًا. لأصحاب الدكاكين ردات الفعل نفسها: من وين من لبنان؟ آه سوريا؟ مشرقية؟ (لا فرق كبيرًا هنا بين سوريا، لبنان، الأردن؛ كلنا عند المغاربة مشارقة).
— Gift from anonymous photographer
قد أقضم قطعة شمس
كي لا تموت النار بداخلي
وقد أبلع بحرًا هائجًا
حتى لا يهدأ غضبي
وأستسلم لجميع الاحتمالات
أن أراك بلا قيود
سركون بولص: مواليد ١٩٤٤؛ توفي يوم ٢٢ أكتوبر ٢٠٠٧
“We knew that he was a wonderful poet (and also a painter for some time),” Marilyn Jossens wrote of Sargon Boulus (1944-2007), known to her and other San Francisco friends as Sergie. “We appreciated the fact that his soul was in the human condition, and in Iraq/Assyria and other areas of the Middle East, but I doubt many knew much of his life in the U.S.” She had noticed a piece recounting my first encounter with his voice. It took a long time for Marilyn and me to get in touch after she offered to share her photos of Sargon, the record of a life well lived, which I have opted to present as a montage rather than chronologically. I was glad to inform Marilyn of the fact that Sargon’s translation of Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet from English to Arabic has already appeared with the Cologne-based Al-Kamel Verlag, along with his translations of Allen Ginsberg and Ted Hughes.
Below, in lieu of captions, are extracts from Marilyn’s letters: